You Stay a Jet!
by HeroMarie
Summary: Tony and Maria's daughter has gone exactly as she shouldn't have: back to the gang life. The next generation of gangs, the Flyboys and Checks, have picked up the long disputed Jets/Sharks turf war. But will this be a repeat of last time? 15 year old Olivia, aka Risky, struggles to find her way in a life of crime and heartbreak. {rated T for some language and violence}
1. Flyboys united

**You stay a Jet!**

Authors Note:

I have just attended a wonderful showing of West Side Story at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood (the long drive was totally worth it!) and I was awfully disturbed by the abrupt, depressing ending. However, I was given hope by the openness of the two…intimate…scenes that took place, first with Tony and Maria, and then with A-rab and Anita (whether or not that could be considered "intimate"). I was inspired. So, here I am, writing once more! Please note- all racism against Puerto Ricans is strictly in character. I do not have anything against Puerto Ricans. Also note that I do not take Spanish as my foreign languages (Italian) so therefor I shall be using Google translate for Spanish when applicable. Thank you for your time, please enjoy the fan fiction!

* * *

Chapter One:

I woke up in a cold sweat, the dead, bloodied, and bruised faces of the dead boys tattooed to my eyelids. Every time I blink, they are there. Uncle Bernardo, and Riff…he knew my father, according to my god mama Anita, my only source of information about my papa.

"OLIVIA!"

I cut off my mother's angered wailing with a scream down the hall, "COMING!" I cried, stepping onto the cold wood floor and pulling a robe over my thin blue nightgown. I hurry toward the kitchen, nearly tripping as I rush.

"What took you so long?" Maria asked, washing a syrup-covered dish with a bright pink sponge that looks like a watermelon slice.

I don't answer, and I pick up a plate, scooping up some fluffy yellow scrambled eggs and some pale blue yogurt, before sitting down at the table.

Mama sighed and set the dish down, looking over at me. "Your god mama and Rita are coming today, so you need to look nice." She tells me, looking over my pale skin with a disapproving eye that makes my heart sink. "You look too much like your papa…" she tells me wistfully, busying herself once again with her dish-washing.

I again choose not to respond, and hurry back to my room. Balancing on one foot, I pull a pair of dark jeans over my skinny legs and a dark blue long sleeved fuzzy shirt over my small frame. I'm taller than my mother, at about 5'8 at the age of 14. Well, almost 15. Tomorrow I'll be 15. Either way, I'm very tall and slim, but I'm much tougher and stronger than I look. Hey, I beat a tough as nails Check once in a fight and he's a guy twice my size. Before that, I felt like I was only in the gang because of my heritage. I even heard them talking about me once.

"Why is she even here, why do we let 'er in!?"

"'Cus she's Tony's girl, that's why. You know that!"

Tony's girl, that's all I am. I'm the daughter of Tony and Maria.

You know everyone thought after Tony died, the gangs would stop. And for a while, they did. Then the Jets ran out of people to blame, things to do. So they and a couple new kids formed a new gang, and the former Sharks formed theirs. No longer Sharks and Jets, but now the Flyboys and the Checks. It's another generation now, and most of the original members are dead, a couple exceptions. If they're not dead, they're not part of the gangs. I pull a white skirt over my jeans so my mama won't suspect anything, and rush out the door, my blue bandana hidden under my sleeve. It's summer now, so no school and I meet the gang under the docks. I rip off my skirt and throw it down in the sand.

"Aw, Risky doesn't like her skirt, does she?" Red snickered, watching me tie the laces of my black sneakers. He's a funny guy, Red, and I often wonder what goes through his head. He's tall, muscular, and good looking, with curly blonde-brown hair that falls in front of his face. They started giving kids real names, none of this weird noun as names crap. So we came up with our own gang names that you get in our little initiation. Red has a real nice name, I believe, but I don't bother using it. Same thing with me and Risky, it's a nickname.

I shrug my shoulders and tie my blue Flyboys bandana around my ankle, then stand and brush the sand off of me.

"You're no fun, Risk." Red mumbles, pouting and crossing his arms.

I chuckle and brush a loose strand of hair out of my face. "Say, are the rest of the guys gonna meet us or what?" I ask, tapping my foot. As if on cue, Grease and Dodger show up out of the shadows. Grease has his dark hair slicked back, his muscular frame makes Dodger, one of the smaller of the gang, look like a toothpick with a blonde wig.

"'Sup Risky." Dodger greets me, waving at me.

"Sup." I reply, staring at Grease. He only gets that look when he's really upset about something, and doesn't want you to know. "Grease?" I ask my voice low and stiff. He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, his blue bandana tied around his head and his sleeves ripped off of his plain white shirt. As I study his sleeves, I notice a red stain under the space he's hiding by his crossed arms. I sigh and walk over to him, grabbing his wrists and jerking his arms down. A stain the color of blood appears before my eyes, which Grease refuses to meet.

"Explain." I tell him, gesturing defeated at the evidence. He crosses his arms back over the stain and glares at me, meeting my eyes for a fleeting second before responding.

"I don't take orders from little girls." He mumbles, turning away.

I gape at him. Dodger's jaw drops, and Red lets out a long, low pitched whistle.

"What did you just say to me?" I ask Grease, my voice deadly calm and my hands clenched into fists by my side. He doesn't respond, and his back is still turned to me. I march myself in front of him and slap him hard across the face. He doesn't retaliate besides a gruff "ahem", which only makes me more and more furious. "GREASE" I screech, aiming a kick at his shins. He clenches his jaw, but there is no other response. "WAKE UP." I demand, snapping my fingers in front of his face.

"THAT'S IT!" He finally cracks, swinging a punch at me, which I dodge by dropping to my knees. That was my first mistake. He kicks me hard in the ribs, sending me sprawling onto my back, at which time he pins me down, smacking the side of my head with his strong hand. My ear pops, and I can feel blood beginning to trickle down the side of my head as I struggle in Grease's grip, shaking my head furiously. I know Dodger and Red and maybe some of the other guys are yelling at us to stop, but I can't see or hear them. They don't exist. They don't matter. I manage to pull my legs up, and kick Grease hard in the gut with all my might, and he loosens his grip for long enough that I can get on top of him. That was my second mistake. With little effort, Grease throws me off of him, and lands a punch at my face. I reel backwards, and spit out blood, already feeling my left eye swelling up. I manage to scramble to my feet, and get into a defensive stance, before someone picks me up and throws me over their shoulder effortlessly. I kick and scream, as Penguin tries to calm me down. I pound my fists onto his back, screaming at him to put me down. His muscles are tight under my hands, and I know I'm not going to win this fight. I pull hard on a fistful of curly, short, brown hair, strands coming off through my fingers, and Penguin jerks his head away from my grasp, as my fingers close around open air. I hear the argument between Dodger and Grease behind me, Red contributing his own opinion.

"GREASE, YOU'RE GONNA KILL HER!" Dodger shouts, gesturing to me. I howl in rage and spit blood onto the ground.

Grease stammers an argument of his own, which is quickly interrupted by Red. "SHES ONE OF THE GANG!"

"SHE'S A GIRL!"  
"YEAH, SO!?"

"WELL SHE CANT JUST—"

Dodger silences him quickly, saying "She can too. You ain't the gang leader here, Grease, Donnyboy is and he ain't here yet. So you can't say what she can and what she can't." Penguin puts me down, holding my waist as I lunge at Grease, furious. As my movements are restricted, I can't do much harm at all, besides create a slight breeze as I furiously wave my arms and kick up sand onto the shoes of the boy behind me, his firm hands stopping my attack.

"Listen buddy boy..." Dodger begins, sighing. "We's all Flyboy's here, ain't we?"

As I lay limp, panting, supported only by the arms of Penguin, My navy blue _f _tattoo on my left shoulder is revealed as my shirt hangs lopsided on my thin frame. Penguin drops me, bringing me stumbling to my feet, and flexes his biceps, showing off his own _f. _Red pulls his shirt down at the back of his neck, showing his tattoo, and Dodger shows his on his ankle. Seemingly out of nowhere, Donnyboy stumbles in, and shows his own tattoo on his side. We all nod slowly, and then silence falls. Grease and I both look up at each other, glaring. It seems the fight is about to break out again, when Donnyboy starts to snap his fingers in a slow, steady rhythm.

_Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap._

One by one we all join in. Donnyboy cracks a smile. "So, I figure I don't want to know, eh?"

I smirk slightly. "Yep."


	2. March of the Penguin

Chapter Two:

"RITA!" I cry as the doors open, and my godmother and cousin come through the front doors. I throw my arms around her and she hugs me awkwardly. For a minute I'm scared my jeans might have shown when I jumped, but mama didn't say anything, so I'm guessing she didn't see. I step back, and Rita looks gorgeous. She has straight, thin blonde hair that falls less than an inch over her shoulders, and big brown eyes. She has a good figure, unlike me, and she is strong too. She's wearing a lovely light blue skirt with lacey little things at the bottom edges. On top she wears white shirt with an undershirt that matches her skirt, and plain black flats on her feet complete the look. Anita hugs my mama, and I notice how small and frail my mother looks compared to her. Anita is wearing a green and pink skirt with a bright hot pink shirt. She looks worried though, and I study her face for a moment before Rita catches my attention.

"What are we doing today?" She asks, implying that she wants to go say hello to the gang.

I smile. "We could go get some ice cream?" I look over at my mama for permission, and she gives me a nod. I squeal slightly, grabbing Rita by the wrist and leading her out the door. I fly down the stairs to the ground level of the apartment building, and I am about bouncing with energy as she follows me slowly. "Come ooon!" I whine teasingly as Rita makes it to the bottom. "They're waiting!"

Rita rolls her eyes and sighs. "I'm coming, Risky!"

I'm glad she didn't call me Olivia like she always used too. She agreed to call me Risky when I let her get a gang name. All of the boys know her as Rita, but they call her Angel.

"ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL!" Dodger calls out with a smile, cracking a peanut shell between his fingers as he sees us coming. He seems happy enough, but there's a sort of tension in the air. Red's head lifts immediately from what he's doing. He stands and grabs my arm and leads me aside, as Rita joins the rest of the guys and says a few nervous hello's.

'What's up...?" I ask him warily, my heart rate quickening.

He sighs and hesitates a moment before meeting my grey blue eyes with his turquoise green ones. "Penguin got jumped." He mutters sadly.

"What!?" I cry, the color draining from my face.

Red picks at his fingernails. "They tried to hit Grease earlier, that's how come he had blood on his shirt that you saw. I guess he sent 'em running, and they didn't like that too much, so they went after Penguin about half an hour ago.

"He okay?" I ask, almost frightened of the answer.  
Red just shrugs. "He's at Donnyboy's, we haven't heard anything'."

I let out a breath long and slow, running my fingers through my dark hair.

Red nods, and then turns on his heel. "Angel!" He calls, breaking the tension like a bubble.

"Hey!" Rita calls, giving Red a hug.

Red blushes and pats her back awkwardly. I give him a thumbs-up and he rolls his eyes before Rita pulls away.

Dodger chuckles. "Oh, you know what, fine, give him a hug. You don't even have to say 'hi' to me or anything." He teases.

Rita smiles. "Hello Dodger."

He grins. "Hi Rita."

I smile; glad my god sister is fitting in for once.

"Hey hey hey, check it out!" Grease hollers, holding a poster up over his head.

The print on the poster reads "Dance in the gym, 6:00" and todays date.

"Oh my gosh." I laugh incredulously, looking around at the gang, my eyebrows up.

"Revenge!" Grease cackles, wringing his hands mischievously.

I tell my mama I'm going to the dance, and at first she's skeptical. Then I use my imaginary boyfriend as an excuse, and tell my mama "Ricardo" is taking me to the dance. She smiles proudly, and she and Rita help me pick out a dress. I twirl in front of the mirror in a light blue sequined piece.

"I like it!" Rita smiles.

My mother looks puzzled, and then it suddenly clicks. "It's perfect!" She whispers happily.

I smile to myself. Rita pulls out a blue and green flower hair clip that I use to pull my hair back away from my face.

Angel wears a pink, fluffy dress with lace and a matching ribbon/headband. She looks gorgeous, and I resist the urge to sweep those pretty white shoes out from under her with my own scuffed up, worn out black flats.

_I'm sure Red will be impressed… _I think to myself with a giggle.

Rita and I meet the boys outside the gym. From the second I see their faces, I know something is wrong.

"Livvy…" Rita warns using an old pet name of mine, as if I can't already see something's up.

I immediately snap at her, and then feel sorry for it afterward. "Risky." I growl through my teeth, giving her a concerned glance. I try to force a gentle smile. "Angel."

Red immediately steers Angel away, glancing over his shoulder at me, gesturing with his eyes for me to talk to the remaining members of our gang. Donnyboy and Penguin are still absent, but the rest (Grease, Red, Dodger, Angel and Myself) are all present. It hits me then what a small "gang" we are, and how noticeable one missing person becomes.

Grease stares at me, as if I've done something wrong, as if I'm guilty.

Dodger hands me a sheet of paper.

I read it carefully and slowly, partly because I'm not the greatest reader, and partly because I am terrified of the words on that paper.

"Stab, heart barely pumping-

DO NOT GO TO DANCE

-Don"

I throw the paper onto the ground and sprint to the nearest trash can.

"Risky." Grease growls over the sound of my being sick.

My breath comes in ragged, chocked sobs.

"What the hell are we doing…?" Dodger sighs, holding his head.

Red comes back with Angel, and it looks like he told her an understated version of what's going on, just from the look on their face. I nod to him reassuringly.

I clear my throat and look at the scared faces of my gang. _My _gang.

"We _should_ listen to Donnyboy." I begin.

"But, I'm sorry, I'm not going to."

And with that, I burst through the doors and find a full-fledged Check attack party waiting for me.

The entire dance was a set up.

I suddenly feel very awkward in a dress.


	3. Sweet

The first thing I do, and the last thing I remember doing, is letting out an ear splitting shriek, a cry of anger and fear more so than one of pain. After that I was a blur of pinwheel kicks, sharp punches, and fury.

Three boys lay unconscious on the gym floor. 3 down, 4 to go. Everything was blurring by fast, until suddenly it stopped. There was a knife. I smiled crookedly at the boy attached to the blade's handle. "Parlay?"

He chuckled slightly, and then turned away, tossing his blonde hair to the side with a shake of his head. He dropped the blade down to one side. He must be the leader.

"Get 'er" he ordered smoothly.

The three other remaining boys grabbed my arms, and I kicked, thrashed, screamed, did anything I could. The leader of them raised his arm to punch me, but they couldn't go through with the action, as a tall, slim boy with short black hair and deep blue eyes stood knocked him unconscious, and left him sprawled out on the ground.

"DONNY!" I screech, furious that he came in to save me, but thankful I'm not a Check P.O.W.

The boy who had been trying my wrists stood and went after Donnyboy, flying at him with fists raised, but Donny delivered a swift uppercut that drove him onto the ground, spitting out blood. I whipped myself into action, squirming free of the boys holding me back, fending them back enough to grab Donnyboy by the elbow and drag him out the back door into the girls locker room. I locked the door behind us. I whirl around and slap him.

"What was that for!?" He spits, holding his cheek.

"How's Penguin?" I ask.

"Fine!" He answers.

I stare at him for a second. "How fine is fine?"

"He stopped bleeding so much, the doctor's say he's gonna be ok. He's asleep."

No one just falls asleep after getting stabbed.

"He's dead isn't he?" I question.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, he's not dead."

"Dying?"

"God I hope not."

I hesitate. "In a coma?"

"Well…"

"Donny!"

"Yeah…"

I consider slapping him again. "You know I didn't need you to come save me."

"Everyone else got ambushed outside. You fought off those 7 fine, but there were 6 more out there."

Fine!? I beat the shit out of guys twice my size! In fact I-…wait what?

"WHAT!?" I screech, grabbing Donny by the collar of his shirt.

"Everyone's okay, cool it, Risk! They just got a scare like nothin' we've ever seen before. We're all a bit busted up, but everyone was really worried about you."

I run my fingers through my hair, practically bouncing on my toes. "God damn it Donny, I don't need them to be worried about me, I just need…"

I let my voice trail off a bit.

What do I need?

What do _we_ need?

I open my mouth to finish my thought, but there are spots bursting like fireworks before my eyes. My knees go weak, and I trip over nothing, squeaking like a puppy who just had its tail stepped on, collapsing into Donny's arms.

It was all downhill from there.

**Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter! What do you think of the Risky/Donnyboy romance? Anyone wondering how Mousetrap and Rita/Angel are doing? ANYONE SHIPPING IT?**


	4. Ricardo

I woke up with four pairs of eyes fixed on me.

"Ah! There's sleeping beauty!" Anita exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air.

"About time" My mama added.

"You missed a lot, 'Livia." Rita added, examining her shoes. A large bandage covered a gash on her leg that was just visible under her skirt.

Shit.

This is my entire fault.

"How did I, erg, who…well, um…"

My momma gave me a wry smile, handing me a glass of water before answering. "Ricardo."

I almost choked to death.

"Who!?"

"He's charming! A real gentleman, he handsome too. I approve, Chiquita!"

Rita looked down in the background. She looked so close to laughing, her cheeks were red. I wanted to smack in right off. Now my mom thinks I'm dating Donnyboy, and she's over there just having a jolly great time enjoying my misery.

I stood up and rolled out of bed.

"Mama, can I-"

"Yes, go to him, darling."

I ran for the door, throwing myself down the flight of stairs, and sprinting the block to Donny's house, not waiting for Angel to catch up, but knowing she was behind me like the tail on a comet. I banged on the door, only then becoming conscious of Angel screaming my name from behind me. "Risk, it wasn't Donny who brought you home, it was-"

A dark skinned face met me at the door. "PENGUIN!" I screeched, my jaw dropping to my knees. "Hey Risk. Angel! Nice to see you girl!"

"You feelin' alright?" Angel asked shyly.

Penguin chuckled. "Good as new. Everyone's inside, if you wanna…"

He opened the door for us, and I stepped inside, white hot rage pulsing in my ears.

It was frozen to the core when I saw the look on Red's face.

"This is your fault Olivia."

I almost shook with the impact of those words.

I said nothing.

"We could have all gotten killed. _You could have gotten us all killed_, do you understand that?"

I remained silent.

"Your cousin nearly got herself in a heap of trouble. If you know what I'm saying."

I knew exactly what he was saying. I said nothing.

"Get out of here."

I turned on my heels and ran.

I didn't know where I was running, I just ran. I ran myself down under the docks. The one from my dreams, where the Sharks and the Jets used to battle. Where my uncle died, where my father lost his best friend. I sat there silently for god knows how long. I heard people run by, masculine voices crying out my name, but I didn't respond. I pulled my navy blue ribbon out of my hair. Three silver tears fell onto it like drops of blood.

I only had one question.

When will I be okay.

And eventually I realized they might never forgive me.

Five more tears hit the ribbon.

Grease found me in the end. He tried to talk to me. I couldn't hear what he was saying. He looked so gentle, and caring. That's when I realized that it was him who brought me home from the fight. Not Donnyboy.

I hadn't let him down. He sat with me until it started to get dark. Then he walked me home, and I said goodbye to him gratefully, hoping he knew how much he meant to me, because I wouldn't get to say it again. I explained to my mama and Anita that Ricardo was part of a Chruch that was going on a mission trip to help people at a homeless shelter in the next city. I told Angel a different story. I felt numb, I felt broken, I felt betrayed and wounded. I packed a small suitcase, and I ran. I layed in the sand, using my case as a pillow. I didn't care. I was gone.

Reality struck me hard, and I came back to the world. "Risk…" Dodger whispered. "You okay?"

"N-No..." I mumbled, falling onto a chair that Grease pulled up for me. I shook steadily, and he wrapped a blanket around me. So it had been him who brought me home. Red looked on at me with a steady glare, but it was truly he who said nothing. Donnyboy stood, telling Angel to go home, tell my mom I was felt sick and my friends had taken me to the hospital.

I felt ill. I could hear my pulse. Grease kneeled at my side, grabbing both my hands. My hearing was woozy, but I could read his lips.

"Risky" he barked. "Stay with me. Come on, you can do it girl. Keep here. Watch me." What, it's not like I got shot or something. I wasn't dying. I felt faint. "I'm fine." I choked. I was actually in quite a bit of pain. I couldn't catch my breath. "c-can't breathe"

I choked. Donnyboy rummaged through some drawers, and next thing I knew I took a puff out of someone else's inhaler. I immediately felt better, now I just had a horrible headache and nausea. I still felt horribly guilty. Red still glared. Dodger and Donny still looked worried. Penguin still stood in the background, and Grease still held my hands. I smirked and laughed gently. "Ricardo…" I chuckled.


End file.
